nine2five 0,0 When Ellie Found Out
by Marc Vun Kannon
Summary: Ellie finds out the truth about Chuck's strange behavior, and decides to do something about it. This is a re-release of the original standalone episode. This is not a new story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** A few people have asked for this, a story about the interval from the end of season 2 to the beginning of nine2five episode 1.1, so here it is. I'm trying not to make it too much like an info-dump of backstory **.** As always, I'm pretty much making it up as I go, and as usual, with as little research as possible. So even though Casey isn't required by the strict rules of military protocol to salute, he does anyway.

This is not a new story. When I started collecting all the chapters of nine2five season 1 into a single document, I added them onto the original version of this story, rather than start a whole new file. This was perhaps a mistake, so I'm re-releasing this story as a separate episode. As usual I will not be changing the text, other than to fix minor things like new lines and stuff like that.

* * *

Eleanor Faye Bartowski– _with a Woodcombe on top!_ –fidgeted in her seat, anxiously waiting for the plane to land. Two weeks of sun, Devon, surf, Devon, clean fresh sheets, Devon, and fabulous meals she didn't have to make herself, with a side order of Devon, ought to have been idyllic enough for any honeymoon, but with each passing day her anxiety grew.

Chuck hadn't called. Not once.

 _It's my honeymoon, of course Chuck isn't going to call._

Something was wrong. Since when had something like that ever stopped him?

"I'm sure he's fine, El," said Devon, but his warm loving baritone had said the same thing for the last few days and the comfort quotient had gotten a little low lately.

"I know he is, honey," she said. "Intellectually, scientifically, I know he has to be fine. He's there, Sarah's there, and if they really did disappear from our reception for the reason you think, they're probably still all right." She gripped his arm tightly.

"Ouch."

"But they've disappeared together before, Devon, and those times they weren't all right, and that's the thing that's bothering the non-intellectual, non-scientific, freaking out substitute mother-figure that you also married."

Devon took the pain, raised his free hand to her cheek. "Better or worse, babe, better or worse. And if that's the worst you can do, I'm a lucky man." Ellie smiled and leaned into his touch. She wanted, needed comfort, and he was so good at it. "You'll see. We get on the ground, spend three hours waiting for our bags, another hour to get through the security, and he'll be right there."

Ellie relaxed her grip. Every second was bringing them closer. Closer to their friends, their lives. Not his life, not hers. Theirs. He was her husband now, he should be the center of her life, and he was, but the substitute mother-figure inside her wasn't ready to give up yet.

Tough on her. Any new husband could be forgiven a little jealousy, but hers was nothing but supportive, in every way. He deserved better. He was right, of course he was right.

* * *

He was wrong. They made it as far as the debarkation lounge before things started to go sideways from his confident predictions.

A man in a black suit and sunglasses came up to them, a photo in his hand. "Mr. and Mrs. Woodcombe?"

At their nod he put the photo away, and took off his glasses. "My name is Mr. Clark. I've been assigned to escort you home. If you'll follow me, please?"

Devon smiled. "Chuck sent a driver? Outstanding."

Ellie wasn't so sure. Why would a limo driver be waiting for them on this side of the gate? She followed, her husband's confidence and Mr. Clark's complete self-assurance pulling her along in their wake. To her surprise and a lot of people's annoyance they bypassed the line completely.

Mr. Clark showed something to the guard, probably a badge, and they were passed right through without question. Everybody on the line wondered what they'd done, and Ellie kept her head down as some of them tried to get pictures, just in case somebody would pay money for them. Another man in black stepped up behind the departing couple, though, so no one saw their faces.

Ellie looked back at the unsmiling man bringing up their rear. "And who are you?"

"His name is Smith, but please don't talk to him, Mrs. Woodcombe," said Mr. Clark. "He won't answer, but it might distract him at the wrong moment."

This was already the wrong moment. Ellie watched the luggage carousels as they went past without stopping. "Are we being arrested?"Devon took her hand.

"No, Mrs. Woodcombe. My apologies if I've given you any cause for alarm. Mr. Smith and I are here to escort you to your briefing. After today, I doubt you'll ever see us again."

Some kind of emergency? Why would the hospital need them? "What briefing?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, ma'am."

Devon waved back into the terminal they were just leaving. "What about our bags?"

Mr. Clark opened a door of a vehicle that in no way resembled a limo, and a third man got out. He spoke to Devon, though. "Give your tickets to Mr. Jones here. He'll collect your bags and follow after us."

Ellie was not about to get in that car with a bunch of guys in suits. "I want to see some ID."

Mr. Clark and Mr. Jones immediately pulled out their wallets, and showed her their credentials. Mr. Jones went around behind them as Mr. Smith came forward to show his.

"NSA?" asked Ellie. "What does the government want with us?"

"Not within our purview, ma'am," said Mr. Clark, putting his wallet away. "Best if we don't know. Mr. Jones?" When Mr. Jones stepped forward, Mr. Clark looked back at Devon. "Tickets?"

If they really were NSA, arguing with them could only a not-bad situation bad, and a bad situation worse. If they weren't NSA, it was already worse. In any case handing over the tickets seemed like the most prudent course.

"Thank you, sir," said Mr. Clark. "Your bags will be waiting for you, when we're done. If you'll step inside we'll be on our way."

Ellie watched his eyes. He wasn't so anxious to get them in the car so much as he was to get them off the sidewalk. Hard to say if that was simply native paranoia or something more. "This is important, isn't it?"

"My immediate superior is an Air Force General, ma'am, and she wishes to speak with you two about matters of national security. That's all I can say."

* * *

The NSA drove them home. Not what they expected.

The courtyard boasted a few more men in black, but at this time of day no one was around to notice. With their irregular schedule at the hospital, Ellie was quite aware of how quiet the place could be.

 _Wouldn't it have been easier to do this in a hotel room?_ Airports have meeting rooms, don't they, so people can get together and meet without having to go anywhere else. _Why not use one of those?_ If the idea was to get them in familiar surroundings, make them calm, it wasn't working. All she saw was how easily her familiar surroundings could become unfamiliar. Mr. Clark opened the door to their own home as if he…

 _What about Chuck? He knew they were coming back today, he wouldn't be at the Buy More, would he? Didn't he quit? Was he at the airport, waiting for them after they'd already left? Was he here, surrounded by unsmiling men who wouldn't answer any of his inevitable questions?_

She pushed ahead, frantic about her brother. "Chuck!" She ran to his bedroom.

It was empty. His bed, his clothes, his computer, all gone. Even the Tron poster she so wished he'd get rid of. The wall looked so empty without it. "Chuck?"

"He's not here, Mrs. Woodcombe," said someone from behind her, someone female.

Ellie backed up, and turned around.

A woman was sitting in a chair, not looking comfortable. Perhaps the rather garish 'Welcome Back!' sign over her head had something to do with it, she certainly didn't look very welcoming. Devon sat on the couch, also not looking comfortable. Mr. Clark stood in front of the door, looking quite at ease.

"Where's my brother?"

The tiny woman said, "Chuck was relocated to Washington DC slightly more than a week ago, Mrs. Woodcombe. Or may I call you Eleanor? Please, sit."

She sank down to sit next to Devon, taking his hand. "How do you know our names? Why is Chuck in DC? What are all of you doing in our house?"

"Well, as to the last," said the woman, breaking into what threatened to be a long stream of questions with some skill, "I am here because your brother asked me to be here. Insisted, actually. I'm very glad to see that your greatest mutual concerns are for each other, that makes this much easier."

"I'm sorry, makes what easier?"

The woman stood up, straightening her clothes as if she were in uniform. "Mr. and Mrs. Woodcombe, my name is General Diane Beckman of the Unites States Air Force." She handed Devon her credentials, while Ellie looked over at Mr. Clark. He nodded. Ellie looked back and took the wallet, staring at the picture. Yes, this woman looked much more at home in a uniform. She handed the wallet back.

General Beckman took it. "Your brother works for me."

Devon said, "Chuck's in the Air Force?"

 _No_ , thought Ellie.

"No," said General Beckman.

"He's in the NSA?" asked Ellie.

"Not…exactly," said the General.

"I always knew he was good at coding, at computers and electronics. Is that what he–?"

"No," said Beckman again. "At least not primarily. Your brother came to work for me about a year and a half ago, under very unusual circumstances. It wasn't voluntary, on anyone's part."

"You were ordered…?"

"Not at all," said the General. "The circumstances of his…conscription…forced our hands. We could not simply remove him, nor could he be allowed to not work for us. I cannot tell you more at this time."

"Why not?" asked Ellie, more than a little disturbed by the casual way the General said 'remove'.

"Because everything about your brother's association with us is classified so highly that the classification is classified. Only your well-documented devotion to each other's well-being allows us to even consider making you aware of the true situation."

"Well-documented?" asked Ellie. "Who's been documenting it, Chuck?"

"Oh, Heavens, no," said Beckman. "One of your brother's first and, thankfully, few demands was that you be left out of the loop. He would never have participated in anything so invasive." She looked over to Mr. Clark and nodded. Mr. Clark spoke quietly into his watch.

"You mean someone _else_ has been watching us?"

"Quite a few people, actually." Someone knocked on the door, and Mr. Clark checked before opening it.

"Allow me to introduce Chuck's primary security officer, Colonel John Casey of the NSA."

Ellie stood as the neighbor she thought she knew walked in the door. "Colonel…?"

Devon smiled uncertainly. "John…?"

Casey drew himself to attention and saluted, a much more natural look for him than the ugly green shirt of a Buy More employee. "Colonel John Casey, United States Marine Corps."

Beckman nodded, and Casey dropped the salute. They all sat, none of them at ease.

"You're a spy?" said Ellie.

"We prefer the term 'intelligence officer', Ellie, but yes, I'm a spy."

"On us?"

Casey looked less than happy. "Not directly, no. I was tasked with Chuck's security and surveillance. I apologize that those concerns overlapped your own lives, but it was necessary. His safety was and is my greatest priority."

"A Marine Colonel and you're babysitting my brother?"

Casey smiled, trying to look human. "Actually, I was a Marine Major until a few weeks ago."

Ellie looked back and forth from Casey to Beckman. "What does Chuck do for you people that you have a…a… _him_ …watching over him?"

Casey tried. "It's c–"

Suddenly Ellie was towering over him. "John, if you say it's complicated I swear I will reach down your throat and perform a double orchidectomy from the inside!"

Devon clamped his legs together and made a pained expression on his face.

John noticed, but didn't let that reach his face or his voice. "It's not complicated, Ellie, just classified out the wazoo. I think the paperwork you'd have to sign to be given clearance weighs more than you do."

"I'll sign it!"

"That may not be necessary, Doctor, Colonel," said the General.

"Ma'am?"

"The Woodcombes are both doctors, Colonel, already constrained by oaths of confidentiality for their patients. We happen to have a patient in need of a doctor."

Somehow Ellie couldn't quite manage to tower over Beckman, in spite of her size."Chuck? What have you done to him? Is he wounded, injured? Why are we even _talking_ about this?"

"Because this is just the entrance to the rabbit hole, Doctor Woodcombe," said Beckman inflexibly. "To be in, you must be all the way in, or stay outside forever."

"What do you mean, am I in? Of course I'm…I'm…" She couldn't speak, couldn't force the words out.

"She's in, General," said Devon, suddenly. "And so am I."

The pressure in her head suddenly released. "Devon?" She reached for him.

He took her into his arms. "Hey, I married all of you, babe. For better, for worse, and I guess now, for Chuck, too. He's your family, I could never make you choose like that."

She sighed. "I love you."

* * *

"Begging the General's pardon," said Casey, sounding ill, "But time is pressing."

"Quite so, Colonel," said Beckman, very pleased. "I think we can take your oaths as a given for now, Doctors. Perhaps you would like that explanation now?"

Ellie pushed on Devon's chest, and he fell back onto the couch, with her in his lap. "Yes," she said.

"Colonel, the floor is yours."

Casey looked less than comfortable. "Well, to be honest, General, I wasn't the AOS."

Beckman frowned. "She isn't here. You'll have to do."

"What's the AOS?" asked Ellie.

"The Agent on Scene," said Casey. "Until and unless an agent is designated in charge, the first agent on scene is in command. This mission wasn't exactly designed, it sort of just happened, and I was the second agent on the scene. Since it's a multi-agency task force, we generally stick to our specialties, but for the mission as a whole…"

"And she's not here?" asked Ellie.

Beckman shook her head.

"She could be," said Casey. "We've still got the hook-up."

"I want the whole story," said Ellie.

Beckman sighed. "Mr. Clark."

Mr. Clark went outside, but within seconds was back at his post, as a technician connected a laptop to a cable stretching all the way back to Chuck's former quarters. "All set, General."

"Dismissed. Mr. Clark, you may also withdraw." She stood, and Casey moved her chair and his own to be caught by the camera. When they were alone and settled, she said, "Agent Bartowski."

The screen suddenly produced a progress bar.

"Chuck's an agent?" whispered Ellie.

Casey grunted negatively, but all Beckman would say was, "That remains to be determined."

"Then who's…?"

The screen lit up, with Sarah's smiling face. "Hi, Ellie."

* * *

 **A/N2** I also made up the whole AOS thing, because it seemed to make sense and other hierarchical organizations do it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** It's an info-dump, but I tried to make it a fun info-dump.

* * *

" _I'm sure he's fine, El."_

" _He's not here, Mrs. Woodcombe."_

" _A Marine Colonel and you're babysitting my brother?"_

" _I want the whole story."_

* * *

Ellie's eyes bulged. "You…?" Sarah Walker, who couldn't cook one of those wiener things to save her life? She turned to look at John. "But…" An agent? An agent. Who could never seem to commit, would miss dates and cancel at the last minute for no believable reason. The woman who called Chuck because Chuck wouldn't call her. "On…" Station. Her station. Her house, her brother. Was it ever real? Was it ever _not_ real?

Sarah giggled.

Sarah Walker was always serious, quiet, reserved. Her love for Chuck glowed from her face, her eyes, but never before had it found a voice. Sarah Walker, the spy, never giggled. Ellie seized on the sound, the woman. The name. _"Bartowski?"_

Beckman checked her watch, impressed. Sarah raised her hand, displaying her new jewelry.

"Awesome!" said Devon.

"I'll kill him!" Ellie shrieked. She seized the microphone, the next best thing to grabbing hold of Sarah herself. "How dare he go off and marry you and not tell me! How could he do that to me?"

Someone tapped on the door, and Beckman said, "We're secure."

Sarah sighed, as Casey and Devon between them pried the speaker from Ellie's hands before she crushed it. "Yeah, he knew you'd be upset. But really, we had no choice, and you were already in the air by that time anyway."

"In the air?" It took Ellie a second to remember the last time she was in the air. "You got married this morning?"

" _To_ Hawaii," Sarah clarified. "We got married about nine hours after you did."

What a ghastly, ghastly day. Such a wonderful, miraculous night. "I thought you were breaking up again," said Ellie, confused. "Chuck was so upset…" And then they both disappeared…

Sarah winced. "I tried to tell him at the reception that I wasn't going after all. But then your father came up and said Bryce was in trouble, and you know how Chuck is when his friends are in trouble."

"Bryce? Bryce who?"

Sarah raised her brows in surprise. "Larkin." How many Bryces could one man know?

Ellie growled in mounting anger. That rat bastard traitor. "Since when is Chuck friends with Bryce Larkin?" Wait, isn't he dead? Yes! They were at the funeral.

"Bryce was a spy, too. In fact, he's the one who caused all this trouble in the first place."

"Don't change the subject, Sarah," demanded Ellie, tapping on the table. "Tell me about the wedding."

"Nevada," snapped Sarah, blushing furiously. "Middle of the night, and that's the best that can be said about it. I thought you wanted to know about Chuck."

"Fine," snapped Ellie back. "I'll let you off the hook this time but _you owe me, missy!"_ She sat back, and Devon put an arm around her, not that she seemed to relax one bit. _"_ So, tell me about how Bryce Larkin got Chuck into trouble. Again."

Sarah actually seemed relieved. "Six and a half years ago, Bryce Larkin got Chuck kicked out of school to save his life."

"To do what?"

"The CIA had a program there. Bryce was already recruited, and when he found out how well Chuck did on certain tests he framed him in order to keep the CIA from picking him up too."

"But why? Chuck's loyal, patriotic. He would have loved the opportunity to serve…"

Casey grunted a firm yes.

"Loyal patriotism would only get him so far, Ellie," said Sarah. "The first time he would have had to draw his gun in anger would have been his last." Sarah sat forward, doing something with her computer, and suddenly the screen showed an academic office, with two men. One had his back to the camera, but the other was clearly a very young, very upset Bryce. _"You can't put him out in the field! He won't survive!"_ The screen froze in mid-shout, and Sarah came back on. "Bryce wanted to prevent that, prevent the CIA from ever discovering Chuck, so he had to discredit the tests, which ended up getting Chuck expelled."

The end did _not_ justify those means! "So…so, on the off chance that my brother _might_ become an agent–?"

"No off chance about it, Ellie," said Sarah, shaking her head. He would have been an agent, he just wouldn't have been _Chuck_. "You have no idea what your brother can do, what he has done."

Ellie knew damned well what he _hadn't_ done. "Has he drawn a gun in anger? Has he killed anyone, or even hurt anyone?"

"He refuses even to touch them," said Sarah. "And even if he didn't, I wouldn't let him, and neither would Casey."

"Moron would probably shoot his own toe off," grumbled Casey.

Sarah tried to smother a grin, not quite successfully.

 _What's that all about?_ "You couldn't have trained him?" asked Ellie. Why was she asking, it's not like she _wanted_ them to.

"She would have killed me if I tried," said Casey. "Anyway, she was the AOS, she made the call."

"Sounds to me like she made the same call," said Devon.

"Actually, it was _our_ call, Dr. Woodcombe," said the General. "Director Graham's and mine. In our view Chuck was either an enemy or an asset, and in neither case did we want him given that kind of training."

"I'm gonna go get some coffee, El. You want some?" He pointedly excluded the people in the room who disrespected his bro-in-law.

She shook her head, and he got out from between her and General Beckman. "How could you think he was an enemy? He's no one's enemy."

"Bryce Larkin," said Sarah. "He went rogue, stole some critical software and sent it to Chuck. I was tasked by the CIA to get it back."

"Why Chuck?" Just to mess with his life some more? Ellie shook her head, that was too petty even for Bryce.

"No one knows," said Sarah. "Bryce said he stole it to keep it safe from a rogue agency inside the CIA, and he did, but no one knows why Chuck got it, especially after all the lengths Bryce went to, to keep Chuck out of our sight."

"I still say his thumb slipped." Casey held up his hand to Ellie. "Chuck, CIA, Chuck, CIA," he said, moving his thumb up and down. "Honest mistake, considering he was bleeding out at the time."

Not the only mistake. "You thought Chuck was a spy? That he was in it with Bryce?"

"That's what I was sent to find out."

Ellie gave her a strange look. "And that took you longer than five minutes?"

Sarah smiled. "Less, actually." Her gaze went away for a moment, someplace nice and warm, but then it came back. "I knew he wasn't a traitor, but I still had to get the software back, not to mention I knew Casey was coming."

Casey shifted uncomfortably, edging away from Ellie, trying to make it look like he was just letting Devon through with his coffee. "Gee, thanks, Walker."

"It's Bartowski, Colonel," snapped Sarah, not at all nice or warm. "Get it right or you'd better stay in California."

"Don't threaten me, Bartowski," he said. "With you two gone the only worthwhile thing in this whole godforsaken state is the Reagan museum and I've already seen that." He snuck a look at Ellie and her husband. "No offense."

"You'll find it pretty hard to offend me right now, John," said Ellie, her voice deceptively soft, her eyes hard. "You came here to kill my brother, didn't you?"

Casey sighed. He knew it had to come up sooner or later. "Not my first choice," he said. "I was supposed to drag him back to DC and throw him in a hole. Wouldn't have minded killing Walker, though."

"With only six men, Casey?" Sarah scoffed.

"You're not upset?" asked Ellie.

Sarah shook her head. "Just insulted."

Devon put his coffee down, hands trembling at all this casual talk of killing. Not awesome. "Why kill her?"

"Why not? Her partner steals the Intersect and she goes looking for it? I wasn't about to take any chances."

Devon looked at Sarah. "Bryce was your partner? You _and_ Jill? Poor Chuck."

Sarah smirked. "He has no regrets."

As Devon's imagination ran wild, his wife stayed down to Earth. "Wait a minute. This Intersect thing. You got it back, didn't you? Chuck's no thief, all you had to do was ask him for it. So why are you still here?"

All the government agents in the room traded glances, none of them willing to tell her it was complicated.

RHIP. "Dr. Woodcombe," said the General.

"Please, call me Ellie."

"Thank you," said Beckman. "The Intersect was originally just a super-sophisticated data-miner. It had two parts, the computer and the data, but it wasn't as successful as we'd hoped. A technique was discovered for using the human brain to do much the same work, so we created a second version of the project, the Intersect proper, only with human hosts rather than a computer. The secrets were encoded into visual images, for ease of retention, but …there were snags."

"She means our people couldn't handle it," said Casey, who hadn't been part of the project at that time but remembered what happened in Meadow Branch clearly enough. "They either couldn't remember anything, or they died, or they went nuts." He briefly reconsidered his words. "Mostly they went nuts."

"And Bryce stole the computer?"

"He blew up the computer," said Sarah. "He stole the data. It was all gathered and encoded, a perfect target. That's what he sent to Chuck, every secret we had in thousands of images, and Chuck saw them all. We couldn't get them back because they were all in him."

"He always has had a good memory," said Ellie weakly.

"He has the most perfect memory ever discovered," said Beckman. "Bryce knew that, and used it."

Ellie got mad again. "Used Chuck. Could have killed Chuck, or driven him mad."

"But he didn't, Ellie," said Sarah, focusing on the positive. "Bryce was right. Chuck is the perfect host. He is the Intersect."

"An untrained, nerd, civilian host."

"That didn't stop him using a computer virus to defuse a bomb, did it?" asked Sarah, fiercely protective of her husband's heroism. "Or fly a helicopter like it was one of his video games. The Intersect never got us out of any of the trouble it got us into, Chuck did."

Ellie's hands shook at the mere thoughts, years after the fact. "He what? And where were _you_?"

"Which time? We were standing right next to him and the bomb, but neither of us was in the helicopter. I had to talk him through that one."

"Better you than me," muttered Casey.

"Yes, it was," snarked Sarah back. She looked at Ellie mildly. "Casey's not the most patient person in the world."

Any other day that'd be funny. "I thought you were here to keep him safe?"

"Believe me, I tried," said Casey. "We all did. The only thing faster than lightspeed is Chuck to the rescue." Everyone stopped to look at him. "What?"

"Did you just make a nerd joke, John?" asked Devon.

Casey groaned, and slapped a hand over his eyes. "All those bugs, all those inane conversations with Morgan." He split his fingers, peered out at his boss. "I don't suppose you can use that Intersect computer of yours to delete?"

"You're a Colonel," said Beckman, smiling. "Suck it up."

"Unless you want to go back to being a Major again," added Sarah.

"You bugged his room?"

"Yes. And your room too, and no I didn't see anything. I'm a professional intelligence officer, not some damn peeping Tom," said Casey. "I bugged the whole complex, that's why we're having this conversation here, it's already secure. The second we leave all those nice men in suits will be clearing them all out."

Ellie's face fell. "We're leaving? Today?"

" _We_ are, Doctor," said Beckman. "If we can ever get this miserable excuse for a briefing finished, that is. You'll have a few weeks to wind up your affairs here and then you will follow."

"Follow where?" asked Devon. "We can't just leave, I've got patients. We need a place to live, we need jobs."

"We can help you with all of that, Doctor. There are many hospitals in the Washington area that can use a heart surgeon of your expertise."

Not good enough. "What about Ellie?"

 _She's mine._ "I've got a rabbit hole with her name on it."

"Then I'm coming too."

Only one person gave those kind of orders in that room. "You'll come when we call, Doctor, and not before. This team is remarkably adept at avoiding injury, but best to be prepared."

"I thought I was supposed to be the doctor on call?" said Ellie, taking a sip of Devon's coffee.

"You're a researcher, correct?" At Ellie's nod, Beckman continued, "Then you will do research. We'll create a dummy consultancy for you, but you'll be working directly for us."

"On what?"

"On the Intersect, naturally. It's far from perfect, and the scientist who created it has vanished. Again. We need you to come in and finish what Orion started, for your brother's sake."

 _Oh, God!_ Ellie pushed back against her husband, and his arms went around her as they always had. She took strength and comfort from them, as she always would. "What makes you think I can? This 'Orion' must ten kinds of genius to make this thing, what makes you think I'm even worthy to eat his dust, much less walk in his footsteps?"

RHIP. "Because you're his daughter."

* * *

 **A/N2** I think I did a little bit of retconning here, but the mythology of the show is so full of holes I hope I can be forgiven for filling some of them in my way. It'll be worse when I get up to explaining Volkoff, I think. **  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** Nothing to see here. Move along, move along.

* * *

" _Bartowski?"_

" _You have no idea what your brother can do_ _."_

" _He has no regrets._ _"_

" _Because you're his daughter_ _."_

* * *

" _My_ father?" Ellie looked ready to laugh or cry. "My dad is Orion? You're telling me Stephen J. Bartowski is a government scientist?"

"Oh, God no," muttered Beckman vehemently.

"But–"

Casey spoke up. "I think what she means, Ellie, is that your father _was_ a government scientist, not that he is one."

"Your father, El?" asked Devon, remembering the twitchy little man he'd only met a few times. "That nice old guy?"

"That 'nice old guy'," said Beckman, as if the words tasted bad, "Has been a thorn in the government's side, and my own, for years now. He brought far too much baggage to the project, and only the fact that it brought Chuck to the project as well has made any of the agony worth it."

"You mean Fulcrum, ma'am?"

"No, Casey," said Sarah. "I think she means Ted Roarke."

"That psycho," sneered Casey.

"'Roarke Industries' Ted Roarke?" asked Ellie. Chuck loved those computers.

"The very same," said Beckman. "He founded his company and made his fortune, based on ideas he stole from your father. He was also the founder of Fulcrum, a secret group of rogue agents within the CIA. Agent Larkin stole the Intersect to keep it away from them."

"Talk about a one-trick pony," muttered Casey. "Guy couldn't do anything except steal from other people."

"So Dad went to work for you to get away from him?" And then when Roarke followed him into the CIA he disappeared completely.

"I wish I could say I knew," said Beckman, "But your father's motivations were never clear. The evidence says otherwise, since he's gone back into hiding, even though Fulcrum has been destroyed, and Roarke himself is dead."

"Dead?" Oh, poor Chuck. The guy was his hero.

"Killed in custody," said Casey. _His_ custody. By a guy he'd trusted.

Following the news was not a priority on a honeymoon. "By who?"

"That's what we need Chuck to find out," said Beckman.

"Bryce mentioned a group called the Ring before he died," said Sarah. "They were cleaning up loose ends."

That math didn't add up. "Wait. Bryce died two years ago."

"Not enough," growled Casey. A guy he'd shot, who lived. Something wrong with that.

Devon caught it. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means," said Beckman, "That Agent Larkin was revived in the ambulance by a Fulcrum team, which thought he had the Intersect. We intercepted his body in transit, and he went back to work for us, deep undercover."

All Fulcrum's fault. "Can't get much deeper than dead."

"He was at your wedding, Ellie," said Sarah. "I was supposed to go with him, when they put the Intersect into him, but I changed my mind. Or really, I _couldn't_ change my mind. I couldn't leave Chuck."

 _I know that, but.._ "I don't understand," said Ellie. "Why would you have had to leave? Chuck still needed you, didn't he?"

Sarah smiled. _Yes, but not for that._ "Not as a bodyguard. Once Roarke learned about you two, he forced Orion to build a new Intersect, but your father tricked him. Instead of putting the data in, he built one to take the data out. Chuck was free of it. With no secrets in his head, there was nothing he needed me to protect."

So untrue. "Just his heart!"

Sarah raised her hand again. wiggling her ring finger.

"The CIA had built another Intersect computer," said Beckman, "Modified somehow, and Agent Larkin was supposed to receive the upload that same night. But the Ring was there instead, and Agent Larkin was killed before he could get it."

"So now the Ring has it?" What was Chuck supposed to do about a government conspiracy?

"Fortunately not. Agent Walker–at the time–went to Agent Larkin's assistance, with Colonel Casey, and Chuck followed."

"What?" _Why?_

"Because he's Chuck," said the General, seeing the real question in her eyes. "Your brother, faster than lightspeed."

Casey groaned. He'd never live that down.

"While Sarah and Casey were pinned down by the Ring, and eventually captured, your brother figured out how to get into the Intersect Room where Agent Larkin was safe, but dying. He gave Chuck a device to destroy the Intersect forever."

Destroy a computer? "He didn't, did he?"

Beckman shook her head. "Over the last two years, he'd seen the danger, he knew the odds."

"More important, he knew the odds against _us,_ " said Casey.

"He uploaded it again, didn't he?" asked Ellie, not really a question. "Why would he do that? What could the secrets in his head do to save you?"

"We think… _I_ think he meant to use himself as a bargaining chip," said Sarah. "He was going to give himself up to save us."

"Did it work?"

"No," said Casey. "This group is more ruthless than Fulcrum, they would have cut their losses, eliminated all of us, except…"

"Except what?"

"Except Chuck," said Sarah. "The modifications to the Intersect were skill sets, to give the user abilities he didn't have to learn."

"Suddenly Chuck knew kung fu, and took out all the bad guys single-handed."

"Ouch," said Devon. They probably didn't give Chuck time to stretch first, not that he ever stretched.

"Yeah, that's what he said," said Sarah. "Our entire honeymoon, he was taking hot soaks every night. Fortunately I also know techniques of therapeutic massage."

"Yeah, you wouldn't want him to stiffen up," said Devon.

"No, Doctor Woodcombe, that's true," said Beckman quickly, as jaws dropped all around. "Thank you for your expert medical opinion. You'll be pleased to know that Sarah's task at the moment is to improve Chuck's stamina and conditioning, for exactly that reason. Isn't that right, Sarah?"

"Uh…yes, general, that's exactly right. Chuck has a lot of skills I, I mean, we haven't checked out yet. I'd, that is, we'd hate to accidentally hurt him."

Devon sipped his coffee, nodding his agreement with that approach. "Doctor's first rule. Do no harm, or as we used to say at UCLA, 'don't sideline when you baseline.'"

Casey grunted his approval. "Good rule." He'd seen more than enough training accidents in his day.

"Once you two get to DC, Ellie, you'll oversee a systematic study of the skill sets," said Beckman. When Ellie nodded, she continued, "And the other training, Agent Bartowski?"

Sarah stopped smiling. "As ordered, General."

"What 'other training', General?" asked Ellie suspiciously.

Beckman frowned at Sarah, who frowned back. Finally she turned to her involuntary hostess. "Before your wedding, after the Intersect had been removed from Mr. Bartowski, I extended an offer for him to continue working with us, in an analytical position, but he refused."

Sarah gasped, drawing Ellie's attention as she seemed to sink in on herself. "What's the matter, Sarah?"

"It's all my fault." Sarah looked up at Ellie. "It wasn't Bryce, it was me."

"What was you?"

"He said he was leaving ," said Sarah, tears starting to fall. "He said he was leaving and he wanted me to leave with him, but I was scared and said I was going with Bryce and that was exactly the wrong thing to say and exactly the wrong way to say it–"

"Breathe, Sarah!" commanded Ellie. She waited until Sarah stopped crying. "When was this?"

Sarah stared down at something. "The night before the wedding."

"But you decided to stay?"

Sarah nodded, still looking down. "At the beach. You looked so happy, he looked so proud…"

 _Proud?_ "Didn't you tell him?"

"I was about to, we were dancing, but then Orion came up and said the Ring had Bryce and…and I…had to go after them." After Bryce. Again.

"He went after you, didn't he? Not Bryce."

Sarah nodded.

"You think he uploaded the Intersect again for you? Re-enslaved himself for you?"

Sarah kept nodding.

"Do you love him?" Ellie took the deer-in-headlights look for a yes. "Then you know what you have to do, don't you?"

What Sarah had to do, apparently, was to run away from the monitor without even so much as a by-your-leave to her commanding officer. Who looked unhappy, but not about Sarah.

"I wouldn't call it enslavement, exactly."

Ellie rounded on her, and this time even the General flinched. "Was he asked? Was he given a choice?" she hissed. "Was he even paid?"

"Yes," said Beckman, glad there was one question in there she could say 'yes' to. "Eventually. He paid for your wedding with it."

"He what?"

"Ted Roarke invaded the church at your wedding. He demanded Chuck bring him the Intersect or he'd kill you."

Casey weighed in. "Chuck did what he had to do, to save you, protect the Intersect, and capture Roarke, all in one fell swoop. You can see why the General wants him working for us. Of course, the church was a little worse for the wear…"

 _He said he forgot my rings._ "I don't care," said Ellie, "I wanted the beach wedding anyway."

"And Chuck knew that," said Beckman, trying to sound a more positive note. "He used his compensation to make your dreams a reality, with a little Marine Corps assistance."

Casey gave a happy little rumble. _Good times_.

"You chose some very nice flowers," said Ellie.

Not him. Miles chose the flowers. _The man had good taste, even if he was a traitor._ Casey didn't show her that part. "Thank you."

 _Thank you._ Colonel John Casey was saying that. To her. She should be saying that, to all of them. They had protected her brother, while he'd turned a year and more of unwilling service, danger, and foolish heroics into the afternoon of her dreams. A lifetime…She stood, eyes tearing, mumbling 'excuse me' as she fled the room by memory.

"Babe?" Devon stood and followed.

Beckman checked her watch again, making a small 'hmp' of approval.

Casey was fluent in grunt. "Yeah, I thought she'd crack half an hour ago. Good thing she's a civilian, otherwise she'd be after my job."

" _Your_ job?" asked Beckman.

Movement on the monitor drew their attention, as Sarah came back. Her eyes were puffy and a bit red, but the rest of her face was under control. She looked a bit surprised at the empty spaces, but not enough to forget protocol. "My apologies for leaving so suddenly, General. Where are Ellie and Awesome?"

Having heard the man speak for five minutes, Beckman fully understood the nickname. "We told her about Chuck's sacrifice for her wedding. She had much the same reaction you did." What was it about that…that…that _Chuck_?

Sarah smiled. "She's crying in her bedroom, isn't she?"

Casey didn't make a show of being disgusted this time. "Sounds like it."

"Good," said Sarah, visibly relieved. "I was wondering when it would all hit her, should have known it would have something to do with Chuck."

"Speaking of your husband, Agent Bartowski," said Beckman sternly. "I thought I made it quite clear that you were to do everything in your power to get him to accept agent's training in Prague."

Fortunately Sarah the wife had told him in no uncertain terms to reject any such offer, long before Sarah the spy had received that order. "He refuses, ma'am, but we are developing our team dynamic. He picked up the finger signals right away-" she wiggled her fingers 1-2-3-4 "-and we've been building from there."

Beckman took what she could get. "Good. Agent or not, we need him on the team."

"Don't worry about that, General," said Casey. "There's no better team player than Chuck Bartowski."

"You got that right," said Ellie, coming slowly back into the room. "Sorry about running off like that."

"Nonsense," said Beckman, as the couple came back to the couch and sat. Ellie waved to Sarah, and Sarah waved back, but didn't interrupt. "We were all quite impressed that you managed to hold yourself together as long as you did. I have a position open on my staff, if you ever care to join up."

Ellie looked grateful for the offer, but…"No, thank you, General. I'm a doctor, not a soldier. I don't do weapons."

Beckman gave her a long, somewhat sad, look. "That, doctor, is where you're wrong. That's why we need you."

Ellie looked ready to argue, but all she finally said was, "Which part?"

"I don't understand the question."

Not everyone had Ellie's logical mind. "You said I was wrong, what was I wrong about?"

Beckman shot a glance to Casey, part of their own team dynamic, and he responded. "The skill sets _are_ weapons, Ellie. Chuck may not be a soldier, but he has the weapons, and he needs to learn how to control them."

The General took it from there. "When we learned that the skills had successfully manifested in Chuck that first night, we offered him training in one of our European facilities, but he's refused all our efforts to persuade him so far."

 _I'll bet he has._ And what 'other training' has Sarah been doing? "I hope you're not expecting me to join your recruitment effort."

 _Crap._ "No, Doctor, but in the absence of such training, we need you to study the skills and help him learn to control them in other ways."

Ellie nodded. "Now that I can do, but just to be clear, General, I'm joining this team for Chuck's sake, not yours."

 _So long as you join it._ A vast future opened up before her, now that these two extraordinary people were on board, and General Beckman was suddenly aware of all the things she had to do to protect that future. She didn't hide her sigh of relief, knowing how Ellie would take it. "Thank you." She stood. "You have made my life easier and harder at the same time, and I must be going. Mr. Clark?"

Her assistant reentered the room. "Ma'am?"

"The Doctors Woodcombe have joined the team."

He nodded to them both. "Congratulations, Doctor, Doctor. Welcome aboard."

Beckman spoke to Ellie. "Let Mr. Clark know your housing requirements and other needs, and we'll have everything waiting for you in DC." Mr. Clark had a card ready to hand to Devon, having anticipated his General's needs, as usual. "As early as possible, please, whatever housing you choose will have to be modified appropriately. You will receive a notice of the upgrades and operating procedures ASAP. Study them carefully, especially the communication protocols. I doubt that we'll ever meet each other in the flesh like this again, but we'll have a lot to say to each other over the next few months, I dare say." She looked at Devon. "You should be aware of the procedures as well, Doctor, although I can't say I would ever like you to have to use them. In your case it's more in the way of knowing what not to do." She gave a sigh, the happy sound of someone looking at a job well done. "Well, I believe that covers it. Now the Colonel and I must be going. Doctors, I look forward to seeing you in Washington."

"General, if I may have a few moments with the Woodcombes? It's in the nature of a personal request."

She was inclined to be magnanimous. Orion's children were on the team. "Certainly, Colonel, we'll expect you at the transport." _Soon._

"Yes, ma'am."

They waited until she left, taking some of the entourage with her. Mr. Jones came in as she went out, with their bags, as promised. Casey had a word with him before he left, then went back to his hosts. "I hope you don't mind, but I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sure, John, what do you need?" asked Devon, always ready to help someone he considered a friend.

"As soon as we get under way, the rest of the team will be removing most of the equipment from this area. This apartment will still be covered, now that you've been read in, but the scope will be much less than it was."

"Will we be watched like this in DC, too?" asked Ellie, already beginning to regret her choice, but working to accept its consequences, whatever they happened to be.

Casey drew himself up proudly. "I'll be taking personal charge of your security, Ellie. Don't you worry."

Ellie made herself not worry. "What can we do for you?"

Someone knocked on the door, and Casey went to open it. Mr. Jones stood there, with something in his hand, but with the sun behind him Ellie couldn't see what it was. "Thank you," said Casey, taking the object, and he shut the door again. He went back to Ellie and held out a tree. "Would you mind transporting my bonsai with you? I can't trust these troglodytes not to break things."

* * *

 **A/N2** One more chapter in DC, and that should take care of this little prequel.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** Okay, here we go, last chapter. I think I got everything into this that I needed to get. The Woodcombe's are adjusting to life in DC. I also addressed a few darker issues that got sort of ignored in canon.

* * *

" _My dad is Orion?"_

" _Because he's Chuck."_

" _I thought she'd crack half an hour ago."_

" _The Doctors Woodcombe have joined the team."_

* * *

Ellie Bartowski stood tall and silent, hair whipping in the wind as the helicopter neared the ground in front of her. She felt nothing, she saw the strands coiling and snapping in front of her eyes. The propeller blades of the helicopter likewise moved in slow motion (lubdublubdublubdublubdublubdub), flinging sand all about, stinging her arms and face, anyplace on her body not protected by her bridal gown.

Suddenly the helicopter lurched to one side and she reached forward, a shriek of "No!" echoing in her mind, not a word so much as a violent negative emotion, as Sarah appeared, shouting unheard instructions into a radio.

Devon and Orion grabbed her arms, holding her still and steady as the machine rose and righted itself. Sarah stood unflinching as the chopper came down, down. Skids touched the Earth and Chuck hopped out, racing past Sarah to her side. The chopper blades continued to spin, moving as the sand as the helicopter continued its downward journey. Chuck held out his hand as the helicopter descended itself into the sand. She reached for him and took his hand, but he only put something in hers and let go. Her wedding rings. She looked up as he walked away from her, hand-in-hand with Sarah.

 _I didn't forget, sis. I can't forget._

* * *

Ellie woke and sat up, shocking herself with the sudden chill of air that had never known California warmth. Devon shifted in his sleep and she immediately got up, shivering as she drew on her robe and stuck her feet into her warm fluffy slippers. She knew from experience that there was no point in trying to sleep some more, even though her dreams were getting better.

What she did not know from experience was the layout of this new house, how very far she had to walk just to get to the kitchen, or anywhere else. She shuffled to the door, annoyed by the way the slippers she'd never had to wear before dragged on the carpeting she'd never had.

She had to do something, but she didn't know what.

Her earlier estimate had been wrong, her father was eleven kinds of a genius, but none of them seemed to be a neurologist. He'd applied engineering logic to a neurological problem, and she had to become a programmer and engineer to fix it. The MRI staff at Devon's hospital were close friends now.

She needed tea.

The doors to the other bedrooms stood open, like choices she'd already made. One was stuffed with still-packed boxes, and Devon's exercise gear. The other was set up as a guest bedroom, maybe someday a child's room. Maybe. Someday.

She had to save Chuck. How could she get on with her life if he couldn't get on with his?

She left the electric kettle buzzing behind her in the kitchen, knowing she had a few minutes before it would be ready for her. Boiling water in five minutes. Once she would have thought that was a miracle of technology. Once she'd been twelve, and allowed to be a little girl.

Her personal demon sat on the dining room table, a shiny metal box keyed to her thumbprint. Inside was a computer, a nightmare of modern technology with part of the code to the Intersect on it, never the whole thing. The box was unopenable, the computer unhackable, the only way they'd let her take even a part of it out of the building.

Her pocket buzzed. Her phone, set on vibrate. Hopefully the hospital, no sane person called at this hour of the morning unless it was to deliver bad news. "Hello?"

"Ellie?" said Casey's voice. "Are you all right?"

 _No._ "Yes."

"Internal sensors detected unexpected movement."

"I couldn't sleep."

John Casey's primary concern was Chuck, but he'd had to learn Ellie's patterns of behavior anyway. This was new, and new was usually bad in his book. "Anything you'd care to talk about?" She'd had to take as much in the last month as any soldier, with less support, and Casey would never let any of his men suffer alone.

She sniffed. Compassion from him always got under her armor somehow. "Just… bad dreams."

He grunted over the phone. "I've had my share."

"What do you do about them?"

"Shoot things the next day. Blow stuff up."

Unexpectedly, she laughed. "I don't think that would work for me."

Ladies were allowed to have lady-feelings. "For you we have therapists, although finding one with a high enough clearance might be a problem."

Like she'd talk about her dreams to a CIA shrink. "No thanks, John." Not Casey, not Colonel. Those names sounded too…military. "They're getting better anyway." Bryce wasn't piloting the helicopter into the ground anymore.

"If you say so." Back to business. "Will these midnight walks be a regular thing, something I can brief my men to expect?"

 _Oh, God, I hope not!_ "Ask me after I've rescued my brother, John."

"Okay," he said. "I'll have the guys here make you a cutoff, that way if you do feel the need to walk about you can let us know not to worry about it. Fair enough?"

She wiped at her eyes. "Yes. Fair enough."

"Good night, Ellie."

 _Not likely._ She pressed her thumb to the case.

* * *

"I owe you twenty dollars, ma'am."

Beckman was beginning to hate this project too, and the things she got woken up to hear. "Ellie Woodcombe?" She'd cracked, a little, back in California, and that was good. No one thought she'd finished, though. The question was when, and how. "I predicted nightmares starting a week ago, Colonel." She had a psychiatrist all lined up, just in case, even though she'd had to go to the CIA to find him.

"Yeah, well, she called it a bad dream, and this is the first time we caught her walking about. My guess is she's been toughing it out in bed so far."

 _And working herself into the ground each day._ Beckman had been keeping tabs. She made a note. "I'll call Leo in the morning."

Casey grunted a negative. "If Leo's any kind of a therapist, you can forget it, ma'am. I already asked."

"Dammit, Casey, we can't let her suffer through this alone. She has to talk to somebody."

"I agree, ma'am. I suggest you."

Maybe she needed more sleep after all, she couldn't have heard him right. "Me? I very much doubt she'll open up to me. I'm the enemy, in her eyes."

"Then make her a friend. You both want the same thing, just in different ways, and for different reasons. I suggest you apologize and go from there."

"Do _you_ think Mr. Bartowski was enslaved, Colonel?" A month and more, and Ellie's accusation still rankled, and Casey knew it.

He wasn't really a good source for consolation. "Doesn't matter what I think, ma'am. What matters is what Ellie thinks." _You're a General. Suck it up._ His voice came over the phone cold and hard. "You did order me to terminate him, on more than one occasion." If not a slave, certainly disposable.

She eyed the phone like it was some kind of treacherous beast. "I ordered you to terminate an unstable asset, Colonel." _'Unstable' by your own accounts._

An asset, not a person. "You ordered me to commit murder, _Diane_." No way he would sully the title of General with that accusation.

"Better his living room than some warlord's holding cell."

If treason is a matter of dates, thought Casey, murder is just a matter of location. "I respectfully disagree."

"As long as you would have obeyed orders."

"Oh, I would have done that, ma'am." Faithful unto death, he was.

Something about his voice sent chills down her spine. "And then?"

Brief silence.

"Are you wearing your uniform, ma'am?"

Of course she wasn't, but his question was his answer. All the answer she really needed. The rest was just details, but she found herself morbidly curious today. "No, Colonel, I am not. Are you?"

"No, General, I am not."

Of course he wasn't. "Your answer, please?" Diane was allowed to say 'please', when Diane was allowed to say anything.

"I would have committed acts of mercy, justice, and penitence. Ma'am."

Plucked brows rose. "Mercy _and_ justice. I'm surprised."

"The mercy would have been for Agent–for Sarah. She was there. You would only have gotten what you deserved."

"Yes." _Not by a long shot._ She threw off the covers. She wasn't used to getting death threats before breakfast. "I guess we should both be glad the question is moot now."

John grunted acknowledgement. "Our boy became a man. If I'd known him getting dropped off a building would do that, I'd have done it myself months ago."

She cinched her robe tight. "It wasn't the getting thrown so much as the getting caught, I'd say."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Back to that again. "Do you see any way out of this situation, Colonel?"

"No, ma'am, but I'm not Orion's child, either. If there's a way out Ellie will find it, or else Chuck will come up with some lamebrained way to make his affliction useful."

Diane Beckman sat heavily on her bed, thoughts of breakfast for the moment forgotten. Chuck let loose on the world, with those skills added to his other demonstrated talents? What couldn't he do? What _wouldn't_ he do, once he realized the power he held. "Let's hope it's the former." Otherwise John and Sarah would find themselves protecting the world from Chuck, instead of the other way around.

* * *

Ellie yawned and shivered, warm mug clutched in her hands. The house wasn't cold, though, just the time of day. She should be asleep, under covers, her body's thermostat set on low.

Too late now.

Too early. Devon would be getting up soon. He wasn't an intern, thank God, but he was the newest member on the staff, so he got the worst schedule. Or he would, until he found whichever cute young thing was in charge of scheduling, and made her his friend. Or an old, ugly thing. Or even a male thing. Devon was real good at making friends.

She was better at making breakfast, and Devon, bless his hungry heart, was very well aware of which side of the bread his toast was buttered on, or whatever the stupid saying was. And it had to be more productive that what she was doing now.

She hated studying code, it always put her to sleep. She'd much rather work her way through it with test cases, but the only sample was Chuck, and she really wanted to know what she was doing before she started experimenting. She spent days in the lab, examining the circuitry as it was being built and installed. Sort of like a brain, once she got used to it. A brain she walked around inside of, and tinkered with.

She spent nights reading code until her eyeballs ached, neat little folders with stupid names that only had to mean something to her father because he was the only one who read it. Sometimes they meant something to his daughter, too, and she could see connections between files that no one else had the family history to understand. Almost like a family code, almost…like he was there with her. Over the last few weeks she'd cycled through it twice, maybe, enough to get a feel for the structure of the files, to know what went where.

And to know when it didn't. She could have sworn that a folder labeled 'Vanilla Fudge 8' hadn't been there the last time.

* * *

The phone rang, but Sarah's hand shot out and strangled the annoying trill before it could finish. Unlike alarm clocks, the phone was allowed to live. The caller, maybe not. "Bartowski."

Chuck rolled over and drummed his fingers 1-2-3-4 along the inside of her thigh. She reached down and moved his hand, pressing her fingers 1-2-1-2 against his palm as she did. "It's Ellie," she said, passing the phone over. "She sounds excited."

Chuck took the phone, pressing a kiss against the hand that held it. "Hey, sis." He listened for a second and sat bolt upright. "Yeah, sure, I remember. Roofers, huh?"

Sarah rolled out of bed and started gathering their clothes.

Chuck just kept talking, light and casual. "Yep, we'll be there, bright and early. Count on it." He pressed the 'end' button.

Sarah seemed to shake, and all her clothes fell off. "What's the message, Chuck?"

He hardly noticed her state of undress. "She wanted to remind us about her invitation to a special breakfast at her place, but could we please move it up because she had to meet with some roofers first thing." He got out of bed and started on his own pajamas. "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"With five keywords and phrases, it can hardly mean anything else." Something critically important, Intersect-related, and she had to run it past them quick so she could take it to the General pronto. Sarah swept up her husband's clothes and threw them at him. "Get a move on."

* * *

General Beckman looked up as her monitor beeped. She considered not answering, but maybe Colonel Casey had come up with some good news to compensate for this morning's little imbroglio. She pressed the button on her console that accepted the connection and blocked all other calls. To her surprise, not one but three people were looking at her, none of them a Marine. The Bartowskis looked pleased, but this wasn't their TV communicator. "What can I do for you, Ellie?"

Bright smile. Not what she'd expected, given the Colonel's report. "I have excellent news, General."

Some days, 'excellent' had a different meaning than others. Today was a high-bar sort of day. "Can you remove the Intersect from Mr. Bartowski's head and end my suffering?"

Ellie's face fell. "How'd you know?"

General Beckman stared at her.

"General?"

Diane jerked, startled. Right. Civilians. "Yes. Yes, Doctor Woodcombe, that's…very good news." Her clenched fingers were white, it was so good. "I see you've informed your brother already."

"I needed a second opinion, General. He verified Orion's code for the removal process."

That would have been a fun surprise to spring on him, and it's not like her job gave her all that many opportunities to deliver good news, but Diane could see Ellie's point. "Congratulations, Chuck."

"I only confirmed her suspicions, General. She already knew what she'd found."

"Which was what?"

Ellie leaned forward, tapping her finger on a closed metal case. "A hidden folder on the secure laptop, called Vanilla Fudge 8."

Beckman wasn't a big fan of sweets. "This was meaningful to you?"

Ellie snorted. "Not very, but enough that I googled it."

Chuck moved at light speed. "Vanilla Fudge was a rock band a long time ago, General. Their eighth album was an homage to one of…um, another rock group's albums, called 'In Through the Out Door'."

"Mr. Bartowski, please make sense."

"The Vanilla Fudge album was called Out Through the In Door, General. A clear, well, almost clear, semi-transparent reference to–"

As a General she preferred the direct approach. "Taking something out the way it went in."

"Exactly."

"How long would it take you to implement this code, Ellie?"

Ellie looked at her brother. "A week, would you say, for the data sets?"

Chuck nodded. "Something like that, yeah. Modify the code, tweak the emitters…"

"Just the data, Doctor?" asked Beckman. "What about the skills?"

Ellie looked apologetic, of all things. "My father didn't code those, General. They're built on a different framework, one that sort of…plugs in to the existing setup. I don't know how to remove them, not safely."

General Beckman made her career out of spotting and seizing opportunities. "It will have to wait, then. Mr. Bartowski's safety is of the utmost importance."

Ellie smiled. Sarah looked over at her man. Chuck looked…hungry.

There'll be no enslaving today. "Proceed with preparations for the extraction, Doctor. The sooner we can get those secrets out of his head, the better, for all our sakes."

Chuck thumped his head against Ellie's shoulder in mock-relief as she said, "Yes, General. Thank you."

"Thank _you_ , Ellie." Diane Beckman smiled. "Are you free for lunch? I think we have a lot to talk about, don't you?"

* * *

 **A/N2** I made up the code based on a Tom Clancy novel. I'll let you guess which are the five words or phrases. I also had some variations on the dream sequence, a bit darker, but I figured this was supposed to be a happy story so I let them be.


End file.
